


Remember

by epersonae



Series: Aftermath [27]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Baby!Magretia Angus, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Magnus gets mentioned a lot but isn't here, Old Man Angus, Passive-aggressive teenage Angus, Short human lifespans, This is the funeral fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 09:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epersonae/pseuds/epersonae
Summary: The most famous woman in the world passes on; her dear son gives the eulogy.





	1. Recognition

**Author's Note:**

> The one prior fic headcanon thing you need to know to read this is that in this continuity Angus is Lucretia and Magnus' son. 
> 
> Two things I've stolen from other people's works: the name of Angus' wife, Silvia, comes from [Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10645485), and the letter opener in Chapter 2 comes from [Down in the Valley](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12095085). Both are excellent fic!

Lord Sterling  — young Lord Sterling, Angus had to remind himself — had insisted that she be given a full state funeral. And who was he to disagree? She was arguably the most famous woman in all the world, even 50 years later.

Probably, too, the formal recognition was keeping him from being completely overwhelmed by other people’s outpourings of grief. Already his home was full of flowers and gifts from well-meaning mourners who knew him as a guest lecturer at the Miller Academy of Arcane Sciences or as the Dean of Taako’s Amazing School of Magic. Even some of his detective clients had sent their regards; at some point, Silvia had just stopped opening cards, and left the stack of envelopes on his desk. At least now the strangers, the fans, the looky-loos: they could just throng the streets of Neverwinter and not overwhelm the rest of his life.

But that meant he was riding in the procession with the “honored guests”, the remaining heroes of the Day of Story and Song. Not too many of those any more, at least of those with human-type lifespans. He’d already been to funerals for Magnus, Killian, Avi, Lucas Miller, Paloma (so many years ago), Cassidy, the great pomp and circumstance for the elder Lord Sterling. Everyone who was left — elves, dwarves, gnomes, dryads — would probably outlive him, unless: well, Davenport was still up to some pretty wild adventures, it was always possible he’d be just swallowed by a kraken on the other side of the world and never return.

So in his sharpest black suit and hat he joined his mom’s remaining friends in an open carriage: Taako, Lup, Barry, and Merle. They’d all hoped Davenport had heard the news and would arrive in time, but no such luck.

“How you holding up…?” and there was a pause where once Taako would’ve called him “kiddo”, “little man”, “little dude”, and it’s been years since those endearments applied, and honestly, Angus would’ve liked nothing more than to be eleven years old and given a dozen dumb nicknames at once. He missed Magnus too, terribly, maybe the most since Dad had died: all he really wanted was to sit between his two dads and lean against Magnus while Taako mussed his hair. 

But he was practically an old man himself. He was older now than she was when he first met her — or at least he was older than she had appeared: expressing time was strange around the old Starblaster crew. He looked at Taako, Aunt Lup, Uncle Barry: ageless, all three of them, and Merle, who had always looked old even when Angus was a child.

“I’m holding up, sir.”

“Ready for your speech?”

He was giving the eulogy that would be heard all over the city, then republished all over the world, following a few words from the younger Lord Sterling and a few words from the new Director of the Bureau of Benevolence, her young protege. It was to him to sum up her life, to speak of her for a grieving world and for his own grieving family.

He nodded, not trusting himself for much more than that.

“You’ll do good by her, lad,” said Merle. “You always have.”


	2. Resistance

By the time he was a teenager, the days of shouting matches between her and Taako or about her between the others had passed. The seven had settled into whatever truces needed to be made. But he saw, and he fumed, and when he was 19 and assigned to teach a unit on transmutation, he threw out the lessons and taught abjuration instead. 

And at Candlenights that winter, he had provoked the first fight in half a dozen years, spending those whole evening needling Taako with the sort of casual barbs he'd learned from his mentor Finally, Taako had started ranting, calling them both every name in the book, bringing up every supposedly-settled grievance, as Angus shouted back, finally, finally speaking his mind, until Taako stormed out of the room. 

“You don't have to defend me,” she'd said, putting a hand on his arm to calm him. He'd shaken it off, still vibrating with fury. 

“Of course I do,” he'd said. “It's not fair, the way they look at you.”

All she'd said was that fair didn't have much to do with it, before gently suggesting that he make up to Magnus by cleaning up.

“You don't have to get drawn into that business,” Merle had said, after dragging over a footstool and getting a towel to dry while he washed dishes. 

“But I am,” he'd said. “She's my mom.”

“Sure. And you think it makes her happy to see you two butt heads?”

“She needs me….”

Merle harrumphed. 

“That lady once fought for a year by herself with an entire world trying to kill her. I don't think she needs a sullen teenage punk restarting family arguments. Heck, I've seen your dad tie himself in knots trying to protect her, turns out most of the time she didn't need it.” In the pause, as Merle took a plate out of his hands that he'd washed four times already, Angus could hear Magnus talking to Taako out on the back porch, something about not being a jackass? Merle sighed. (This was one of the years when Davenport hadn't made it to Magnus’s for Candlenights. Perhaps that had been for the best.) 

“Sometimes there's bad blood,” he'd said, “and you can't fix it. Trust old Merle on this one, I've given it a shot myself. But you can love your family, and letting them  _ both  _ know that you love ‘em is good enough.” He dried and stacked another plate. “Or at least that's what I tell myself.”


	3. Reconciliation

When Dad died, everyone came to the house in Ravens Roost. Magnus Burnsides hadn’t lived as public a life as Lucretia had, but he was beloved in the Roost, beloved among the people who had been given a new lease on life via the Hammer and Tails, and of course, beloved among his families in the BoB and the IPRE. Most of those last had been there for Magnus’ final days, which for Angus were all a blur, seeing everyone from the best years of his youth, but constantly worrying about Dad, then overwhelmed by the depth of loss.

He had stepped into the upstairs bedroom for a moment of quiet. For years, that had been Magnus’ room, until he was too frail for the stairs and had to sleep in the guest room on the first floor. But the room was still full of Magnus’ things: little carved trinkets, the IPRE patch from his jacket, framed drawings from Lucretia, a letter opener that Julia had made. Angus had moved through slowly, touching things, remembering Magnus here when the house was new, when the world had only just been saved.

He had been well into the room when he realized the balcony door was open, that Mom and Taako were together there: Lucretia in her rocking chair, Taako leaning against the railing.

“I should’ve visited more.” Taako’s voice had been tight, and he gripped the rail as if he might be flung into space. “We died so much that it seemed like we couldn’t die.”

“Don’t blame yourself.” Angus could always tell when Lucretia was carrying herself very carefully around Taako. “It can’t be easy to see.”

“He was so  _ good _ , so straightforward and sincere and  _ good _ , and I couldn't be bothered to come visit him?  _ Years _ , Lucretia, he kept inviting me, and I thought: next time, maybe next time. He's gone, Lucretia, and I didn't… Until it was almost too late.”

She had let out a long sigh, not exasperated, just tired. And then a breath in, the way she did when she was hesitating about something. 

“I hope you didn't…” Another deep breath. “I hope it wasn't on my account, since I've been here….”

The sound Taako had made could've been mistaken for a laugh, by someone who didn't know him better. 

“It's not about  _ you _ . Not everything is about  _ you _ .”

Angus had seen her square her shoulders, the sign of another round in the endless fight. But Taako's face, when he turned from the balcony: all the fight had gone out of it. 

“All I'm saying is  _ you _ did the right thing this time. And cha’boy, cha’boy Taako was in the wrong. And  _ fuck _ . Talk about things you can't take back.”

“You know he would forgive you.”

“Of course. He could forgive almost anything, at least from us. I'm not like that.” Taako had shaken his head, closed his eyes. “I don't forget, I don't forgive. So I can't…. Lucy, what was I thinking?”

“You didn't want to think about it. Like you said, we used to die all the time. Besides, you're an elf” — Angus had heard a touch of bitterness in her voice — “you're still young by comparison. Who wants to see their friends old and dying?” Another long sigh. “But you have to forgive yourself the way he would. Believe me.”

Taako had stifled a sob. 

“He was too good for us, Luce.”

“Maybe. He did also  _ eat _ a relic once.”

“Oh gawd. And then the time he  _ died  _ because he couldn't stop eating hard candy?”

“What about the power bear, though?  _ I'm 20 years old and I'm going to beat up a two story bear _ .”

“Or when he literally stripped naked in your office?”

Angus had backed away then, left them to their reminiscing, found another quiet spot, and cried: both grieving and relieved. It had been different after that, something eased and released between them. Never friends, exactly, but the old hurts set aside for good.


	4. Reprieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This directly references what happens in [Another Deal With Death](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11838330).

There would be no religious ceremony: Lucretia had never been much for that sort of thing. Merle could say the rites of Pan at home in Bottleneck Cove, if he liked, and of course half the family was bound to the Raven Queen, and Angus followed Istus, mostly for Dad’s sake, but nothing like that for her.

Angus had never directly asked the reapers about their work, not even when Dad died. At home they were just Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry and Kravitz, family who happened to work together, who told work stories unprompted sometimes, although usually “work stories” meant tales of fighting necromancers. But he sat with Mom when she died. He was there when she took her last breath. And he knew about the sea of souls, of course he did.

He remembered Lucas, and that first Candlenights on the moon. Lucas had broken the laws of life and death — used a Grand Relic — in the hopes of keeping his mother. Angus hadn’t understood then; he could almost understand now. Not that he would ever do such a thing, if for no other reason than that she herself would give him that calm disapproving stare.

But it weighed on his mind, so he made a call on his Stone of Farspeech.

“Mr. Kravitz?”

“Angus. Would you like me to get Taako?”

“No….” He hesitated and took a deep breath: a habit he had definitely picked up from her. “She's alright, in the Astral Plane? I mean….”

“Istus’ bargain still stands, if that's what you mean. Her deaths before haven't sent her to the Eternal Stockade.”

He swallowed hard. Honestly, he hadn't even considered that. 

“But is she… It's peaceful there, right?”

There was a long awkward silence after that. 

“Kravitz, sir? Are you there?”

“She's good, Angus. Better than most.” Kravitz made a little humming noise, the one that meant he was considering the rules and boundaries of his role as a reaper. Angus wondered if he should've just called Aunt Lup. “We worked something out for her. I can't… You know.”

Angus didn't want to let it go, but he knew Kravitz well enough to know that was all he'd get now. 

 

The night before the funeral, the house was full of guests; most of them were still in bed, but Angus couldn’t sleep. He puttered in the kitchen, making coffee and toast: something to keep his mind and hands occupied.  

He could hear the reapers talking in the other room: “How is she settling in?” asked Kravitz. 

“What are you talking about, Krav babe? I already told you, it went fine. They're fucking adorable.” Aunt Lup paused. “Ohhhhh. Right. I see.” And then her voice increased in volume. Aunt Lup was nothing if not melodramatic. “Yeah, Lucretia is having a great ol’ time on that island Big Momma set up for Magnus and Julia. Just doin’ real good.”

“Babe. You're a little, uh, loud?” said Barry in his normal tone of voice. 

“And must you call her Big Momma?” added Kravitz. 

Angus stepped into the room, gripping his coffee mug.

“I'm right here. And thank you. I know I'm not supposed to know. I appreciate it.”

Then his composure vanished completely and he began sobbing. Magnus, he hadn't known this about Magnus, hadn't even thought to ask. And towards the end, when she drifted in and out of lucidity, several times she had looked right at him, asking for Magnus, like she had forgotten he was gone. Her voice had been sad and panicky. All Angus had been able to do was hold her hand. 

“Dude, kid, it's okay, she's okay, hey.”

“Lup, let him be; Krav, can you go get Taako?” Barry took his coffee; his uncle's hand was icy, the coffee was a lost cause now. 

“No, don't, I don't want, I'm fine, I'm just going to go.”

He'd stumbled away from them, leaving them still talking about him. 

“I thought you told Taako?”

“Yes, of course, but I told him not to tell anyone.”

“Surely that… Wow, he didn't even tell boy wonder. You must have scared him for real.”

Silvia found him in his study with his head in his hands. He told her the whole story, actual goddesses bending their own rules, first for Magnus, then for Lucretia. 

“That's good, right? They're happy? It's kinda romantic, really.”

“I know. I just can't stop…” Fresh tears fell through his fingers. 

“Oh sweetie.” She held him while he cried for his mother, his father, and a woman he'd never met.


	5. Remembrance

He'd been with Davenport when the light overtook them. At first it was just the song: so clearly Johann’s, and his best yet. And then. A flood of knowledge, and all at once Angus understood why Davenport had crumpled under the weight of remembering. He understood why Taako was so brittle, why Magnus was so cavalier, why Merle was so insecure. And he understood the sadness he’d seen so often in the Director’s eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. But he knew even then that it wasn’t quite all of the story.

 

“Why didn't you feed the story of my birth to Fischer?” he'd asked her, years later.

“I didn't know then how much I would be doing that,” she had said. “And I'd hidden in all the normal ways. No one knew, except McDonald. It didn't seem…necessary.” She had looked up at him, her eyes wary. “I hope you can forgive me for what I did.”

“Grandpa McDonald took such good care of me. He was kind and thoughtful and wise; I learned a lot from him. You don't have anything to apologize for, ma'am.”

“I'm so proud of you, Angus. I hope you know that.”

 

Angus McDonald, the World’s Greatest Detective, Dean of one school of magic and beloved teacher in another, took a deep breath. He looked out into the crowd that filled the square, and the streets beyond the square, all watching him, waiting for him to say something for this moment. Behind him, rows of chairs filled with dignitaries and family, his family,  _ her _ family, not by blood but by a thousand bonds of time and love and chance. 

He could do this. He could tell them about Lucretia: chronicler of the Starblaster. Director of the Bureau of Balance. Hero of the Day of Story and Song. Director of the Bureau of Benevolence. His mother, lost and then found. He could share how much he loved her and remind them of who she had been. She was gone. They would not forget.

“It was on a day much like this, more than 50 years ago, when Lucretia began the sequence of events that would end the Relic Wars, and eventually, lead to the Day of Story and Song. She chose to make a world forget, but she also chose to stay with that world, our world, to try to save it, to try to save  _ us _ . And so now we remember her.”


End file.
